'A sense of humour lends you poise, it gives you balance and it helps you to bend without breaking'

(HH Pujya Gurudev Swami Chinmayananda)

Menorise; Saturday Sayings

"Words are only painted fire. A look is the fire itself."
(Mark Twain)

Menorbitayshunal; mulling things over

WARNING - link-heavy post... the weekend approaches, you need something to occupy you...😉

I began this week with watching The Sky At Night, a long-running BBC show that used to be hosted by Patrick Moore. It nearly died with him but found a new life with an equally entertaining and engaging new presenter, Maggie Aderin-Pocock. (There is irony in this, given Sir Patrick's misogynistic views.) This month, the focus was on the New Horizons probe and its fly-by of Ultima Thule in the Kuiper Belt. Very exciting, if you're a space enthusiast like myself. That very morning, Angus over at Bob and Sophie's gave a link to a very interesting article on another space object.

Then blogpal Dora had a rant about 'awards'. She got a lot of comments back on that post. It brought all those of us who are in blogging because we like it and not because we want accolades or recognition, out to shout. That got me thinking (yet again) at how fast and fame-oriented the world has become. If your face isn't all over the book of phizzog or Instymarg, what? You're a nobody? What is the urge to be seen which seems to prevail?

Here's news not fake... there is no such thing as a nobody. If you are living, breathing, eating, sleeping, feeling and reading that sort of nonsense and dreaming of being 'somebody', you are entirely missing the plot twist where you are the somebody experiencing that!!!

The thing is, those people who are getting recognition on all the social platforms are not getting this from magic. They are putting work into it. This applies to everything in life, does it not?

No matter what we want to be, and whether or not we get any kind of fame (recognition beyond the established social circle), it comes down to how much work we are prepared to do upon ourselves to further that aim. Then, to be prepared to take on the learning to increase our abilities in the field of our particular interest. Still more, to have the determination and stamina to keep at it and keep at it and keep at it - and the fortitude to deal with the possibility that what we desire may still not come our way.

In looking around at some new places to visit online and just generally browsing, I found myself getting incredibly bored. Not that the content was boring... but I couldn't quite place the issue, until yesterday, when it hit me.


What is this thing about making pages, even of personal blogs, entirely white? I recognised then that it was not really boredom it was physical tiredness. I was getting snow blind.

Having a border of a darker (or at least some) colour helps to filter the light and the eye is less tired. It is the same principle as putting a lamp near or around the television to cut the glare. OR, if a single colour is your thing, soften it into a pastel.  This is blogging, not the operating theatre...


Menolyrical; another's words

It's three hours before publish time and I don't have a post ready. This is unusual for me. It feels edgy. I am usually scheduled a couple of weeks ahead. You know. Just in case.

I was concentrating on getting posts done for Aatmaavrajanam (my Vedantic philosophy blog) and kinda let this one slip a bit. At least that's part of it. The other part ... well, I'm pondering that even as I write. Maybe it will get shared tomorrow.

Meanwhile, in preparing the other posts, I was making a reference which reminded me of a poem that has risen to fame in recent times and - perhaps - has been a bit overworked. Or at least the last verse has. That final phrase, though, only really holds its full worth when reading with the whole poem from which it arises. Did you ever consider why this particular poem became the anthem and the cause of the naming of the Invictus Games? William Ernest Henley was, himself, an amputee. The poem refers to the depression and struggle of physical disablement and how it can be overcome by knowing the "I" inside is untouchable and always able.

Out of the night that covers me, 
      Black as the pit from pole to pole, 
I thank whatever gods may be 
      For my unconquerable soul. 

In the fell clutch of circumstance 
      I have not winced nor cried aloud. 
Under the bludgeonings of chance 
      My head is bloody, but unbowed. 

Beyond this place of wrath and tears 
      Looms but the Horror of the shade, 
And yet the menace of the years 
      Finds and shall find me unafraid. 

It matters not how strait the gate, 
      How charged with punishments the scroll, 
I am the master of my fate, 
      I am the captain of my soul.